A monocline is a formation in rock strata where layers make a step-like steeper bend from one horizontal level to another, much as the cables do on these socks.

Cables flow gently across columns of twisted stitches in these stretchy socks.

A bract on a plant is a modified leaf which is often part of a flower or cone structure. The overlapping curves in these cables reminded me of some bracts I’ve seen.

The cables on these socks resemble ornamental keyhole plates.

People kept mentioning the art of Charles Rennie Mackintosh, especially his roses, when they saw this stitch pattern. While not intended to imitate his roses specifically, the combination of curves and angles in his work is an inspiration.

My uncle took one look at these and said they reminded him of where Tolkien’s elves came from. Not having come up with anything more fitting myself, I decided to take his advice.

Cavatappi Socks were the September/October 2022 mystery knitalong for the Solid Socks group.

A micronova is a small stellar explosion, a millionth of the strength of a typical nova. This phenomenon was first described while I was working on this pattern, and it seemed like a suitable name for socks with many small starbursts.

While designed in the 2020s, the cable pattern on these socks is reminiscent of the Art Deco style of art and architecture popular in the 1920s. The back of the socks is relaxing stockinette.

While people see many different things in them (I had suggestions ranging from rain on windows to labyrinths to musical pieces), the cables on these socks do seem to evoke a contemplative mood.

I originally designed this as an abstract cable pattern, but almost everyone who saw it thought it looked like lotus flowers when viewed from either side.

When my mom saw these she said they reminded her of Irish dancing, so I named them after a traditional jig that is the title track of an album (by Blackthorn) that I listened to frequently when I was growing up.

Compulsory figures are prescribed patterns that, in figure skating competitions, used to be traced on the ice by skaters in order to demonstrate mastery of various techniques. The loops and curves of the cables on these socks are reminiscent of the patterns left on the ice after such a competition.

Thigmotropism is the directional growth in response to touch that allows tendrils to wrap themselves around an object, much the way the twining lace patterns wrap their way up these socks.

The cable pattern on these was originally inspired by a brick footpath (although I did simplify it to fit onto socks). I have shown mine in a nearly solid yarn, but because it uses slipped stitches it will also stand up to a bit of variegation.

The colourwork pattern brings to mind both waves and Greek key patterns, so I named these after a Greek sea goddess.

Dicentra is the genus of flowering plants commonly known as bleeding-hearts, which the string of not-quite-heart-shaped cables on these socks remind me of.

Simple zigzag colourwork reminds me of the rickrack in my mother’s sewing kit, and a squishy textured pattern makes for a forgiving fit.

Pilea glauca, also known as Pilea libanensis or the grey artillery plant, is a popular houseplant with trailing clusters of leaves that the cables on these socks resemble. While the plant may be a puzzle for taxonomists, ribbing on the rest of the sock means fit shouldn’t be a struggle for knitters.

The intertwined cables on these socks evoke our connections - each node is connected to all the others, just as we are brought together through our communities.

The spiky cables in these socks make me think of the frost flowers that build up on old-fashioned windows. The cables are mirrored for the second sock.

If you share my love of tiny cables, these are the socks for you. The softer outer cables and smaller, spikier inner ones remind me of the rounded branches and spiny leaves of a monkey puzzle tree.

Inspired by a stoneware jug I saw a picture of, these socks combine very simple stranded colourwork with just enough texture to keep things interesting.

When I was younger I used to enjoy testing my wits against the puzzles in the Encyclopedia Brown stories by Donald Sobol. Sally Kimball, Encyclopedia’s bodyguard and partner in his detective agency, was “the prettiest girl in the fifth grade and the best athlete.” The lace and cable pattern on these socks reminds me of Sally because it’s both p...

My great-grandmother Elina was the first person who knit socks for me, so it seemed fitting to name some socks after her. I hope she would have liked these ones.

A combination of horizontal and vertical stranded techniques is an easy way to add a pop of colour to cozy ribbed socks - no intarsia or duplicate stitch required. Choose one of five provided charts or create your own.

Cheerful slipped-stitch pumpkins add a touch of whimsy to the legs of these socks. Wavy cables in the ribbed portion keep the knitting interesting and gently suggest vines.

Fold-over ribbed cuffs help keep these on little feet and slipped-stitch pumpkins add some seasonal fun.

Sometimes it takes very little of a second colour to have a big impact. A small section of slipped-stitch cables, great for using up a mini-skein or leftover yarn, provides some interest on the leg. Waffle rib for the rest of the sock makes for a relaxed knit and a comfortable fit.

Bubbly lace flows neatly into ribbing at the heel, toe, and cuff of these breezy warm-weather socks.

Someone pointed out to me after I knit these that the cables look a bit like a backbone, which suits them well because a backbone is just what it takes to stand up to our windy winters. Slipped stitches hide the jog in the stripes and highlight the cable pattern.